Your not Dead
by veronicaoakenshield
Summary: Sherlock keeps a close eyes on John since he can't be in his life. Then John does something that ruines Sherlocks plans of not interacting.


I was walking through town to 221 Baker St. it was late and the night was still. No cars were on the vacent road. I stopped walking when I got to the perfect psition to see into mine and John's. . . I mean John's flat. The certains were drawn and the light that came through the window stuck outin the dark street. John was standing in the living and clutching something in his hand. I couldn't tell what. Then i noticed that his hand was now on the cp of the small container and twisting it open. It seemed as if he only tipped the container over his hand just to get a small dosage to come out. Then he put the substance that was in the container in his mouth and he swallowed. He looked down then up but not out the window. His figure greww smaller as he went to stand in the middle of the room. I thought he was going to sit down, but then suddenly he collapsed. I heard myself say,"John!" And before I could even think of what I was doing, i was already across the street and to the front door. I opened the door and dashed upstais and into the flat. I didn't even think of what Mrs Hudson would do if she heard this racket at this hour. When the door to the flat was open, I saw John laying in the middle of the floor. He wasn't moving and it didn't look as if he was breathing either. My eyes widened ith fear and my mouth was gapped open. I ran over and kneeled down next to him. John's eyes were open and staring into nothingness. I put my right hand on his face and turned it toward me. His eyes were red from the tears that streeked his face. There were two tears left still running down each side of his face. He had been crying most likely because of. . . . . me. And he must have took the pills because of. . . . . me. Guilt rushed through my body. i removed my hand and as I did his head tilted back to the position it had been in before. It took one quck glance at the rest of his lifeless body and could tell that he had lot 15lbs., nd he had bags under his eyes. It seemed that he hadn't been sleeping for weeks. I stood up slowly and sat in my chair. I just stared at him, John, my only friend, was dead. I got stood only once more to close the door then i resumed my position. I still couldn't grasp the idea that he was dead. Or that he had taken his own life because of me. It was all my fault. Then suddenly, John coughed and I heared him inhale deaply. I was by hi side in a heartbeat. I put his head in my lap and for a while he just stared at me. He finally managed to say,"Sherlock? Your, not dead?" I just stared back at him. I whispered,"John. . ." but before i could get anything else out, John made a helpless gasp for air. His lips were trembling and I could tell he was fighting to say something. He barely managed to say," Antidote. It;s in the, it's in the. . ." he trailed off and his eyes started to close. "John!" I shouted as i shook him by the shoulders. His eyes flickered open and he said,"Cupboard above sink. Left hand. . ." and agin he faded into unconciousness. I slowly and gently lade his head on the floor and dashed to the cupboared. I flung the little door open and grabbed the only container that was there. I went back to John's side and put his head back on my lap. I untwisted the cap and poured one pill onto my hand. I had a pill in the right hand and with the other I opened John's mouth and dropped the pill in. I shook John once more and his eyes weere just little slits. "You need to swallow John!" I now had my left arm under his head and the other resting on his right cheek. Then I heard John faintly whisper,"I can't Sherlock." That one sentance broke my heart. Then I moved my hand from his cheek and slid it into his hand. I sqeeze but he didn't respond. "John, please swallow. For me?" I was still holding his hand titly. Then i felt him sqeeze back. He tried to say something, but nothing came out. So instead he just nodded. I watched his throat to make sure he actually did it. When it was down he looked at me and choked out,"Why did you leave Sherlock?" Then his hole body went limp and i felt his hand loosen it's grip. Was he dead? Was I not quick enough to save him and get the medicine to him? I let go of his hand and rapped my arms around his lifeless body. MY forehead was resting against his, and then I felt hot tears roling down my face. I watched as one tear fell upon John's cheek. As if because of the tear his eyes slightly opened, and I heard him say,"Sherlock, I just need to rest." Before his eyes fully closed, I gently layed my lips on top of his. He kissed me back and it seemed like he had to use the rest of his energy to do so. Then he lay limp once more and I sat up streight. I grabbed a pillow from the couch and put it underneath John's head.


End file.
